


Always So Loud

by SHAYCH___xxvii



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Size Kink, Trans Character, irredeemable pwp, rubs my filthy goblin paws all over this fandom and runs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 14:10:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10720884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHAYCH___xxvii/pseuds/SHAYCH___xxvii
Summary: Fero's mouth runs, and his mind wanders.





	Always So Loud

“I  _ knew _ there was something better you could do with that mouth,” Hella says, gasping, her hand tightening in his hair.

Fero rolls his eyes up towards her face but all he can see is the even brown skin of her thighs, the taut definition of her stomach, the weight of her breasts high above him and, gods, she’s so fucking  _ big.  _ It’s impossible. It’s incredible. He moans and presses himself further against the wet heat of her, his fingers flexing where they’re dug into the meat of her legs, his nails catching on old scars and stretchmarks. His tongue aches, his jaw aches, but he stretches it further open all the same. 

Hella isn’t balanced over him so much as she is sat directly on his face, thighs spread, pinning him in place with the weight of her, and he’s got his face buried in her cunt. He could suffocate like this. Fuck, he  _ might actually  _ suffocate like this, but also he cannot bring himself to care. His nose is pressed, achingly tight, into the wiry curls nesting at her mound and he’s got his tongue flicking up through the slick folds of her hard and fast because it makes her  _ growl  _ and pull at his hair and Fero is a weak, weak man. She’s slick against his chin where it’s jammed against her entrance, and she keeps grinding down against him despite the prickle of his facial hair. He can feel the flex of her muscles, all around him, he can feel every shudder and shake and groan that echoes down through her bones. He’s doing that.  _ He’s  _ making Hella Varal,  _ Queenkiller _ , shake apart and that’s a hell of a thing, and so no one can blame him for the desperate whimpers and starving, whining noises he’s making, panting against her.

No one came blame him for the way his hips are canting, bucking up into thin air, his cock hard and throbbing and seeking any kind of friction.

_ “Fuck,  _ yes, Fero, come  _ on,”  _ Hella says, grits out through her teeth, and the grind of her hips against his face is stuttering, her muscles tense as stone and shaking with the effort. Fero gasps in a breath, the barest of relief against the burn of his lungs, and then fastens his lips around her clit and sucks, flicks his tongue against the underside of it as he does. Hella  _ howls,  _ and he can feel his pulse in his ears, he can feel  _ her _ pulse in his ears as her thighs clamp closer around his skull, as every muscle in her body clenches impossibly tighter. Her hips roll against his face once, twice, again—and then hold there as she shatters.

When Hella cums she moans low and ragged, and there’s a hot rush of liquid that fills Fero’s mouth and spills out over his chin, soaks into his hair and his beard. He swallows convulsively, drinks it down like he’s dying of thirst, and Hella rolls off of him, breathing hard, limbs shaking. Fero, equally out of breath, props himself up on his elbows to look at her. Hella, sated, is  _ magnificent,  _ awesome in every meaning. Her head is thrown back still, her red hair loose around her face, tangled around her shoulders, a fine sheen of sweat across her skin and a bright flush high in her cheekbones. Her chest is still rising and falling rapidly, and it is hard to look away. 

_ “Wow,”  _ says Fero, with feeling, and his voice is cracked. Hella laughs to hear it, rolls her neck lazily to see him and then her eyes linger with obvious interest. Fero blushes hard when he realizes what he must look like; pupils blown out and lips swollen, face soaked with her, his hair damp and curling from the wet. The red head of his cock, peering out from between his thighs. Suddenly embarrassed, he goes to cross his legs, hide himself, turn away, and says, “Oh man, sorry, sorry, let me just—”

“Hey, come here,” Hella interrupts, gently, and when it barely causes him to stutter in his fleeing she sits up, reaches out and grabs him by the hips, drags him closer to her and  _ oh.  _ Her hands dwarf him, could wrap almost all the way around his thighs, and she moves him like he weighs  _ nothing  _ and it’s enough to light him on fire. Fero’s breath catches in his throat and he whines, high and sharp, and Hella  _ giggles  _ at him. “So eager,” she teases, and settles him on her thigh, presses his hips down and holds him there.

He’s slick, soaking wet, enough that when Hella drags at his hips he  _ slides  _ along her thigh easily, the friction against his erection enough to make him  _ sob,  _ and he scrabbles at her for something to hang on to. Gets one hand around the back of her neck, just barely within his reach, and clutches at one broad forearm with the other.  _ “Shit,”  _ he says, and then, “Gods, Hella, please don’t stop, Hella,  _ Hella—”  _ and from there it’s a rapid-fire mantra of filth and pleas and the sound of her name on his lips as she keeps him pinned there. His hips buck, but her grip is too firm; he can’t do anything to quicken or slow the pace Hella sets, grinding him against her. 

With his back arching, his chin tucked against his chest, panting and nearly  _ shouting  _ with his pleasure _ ,  _ Hella laughs at him again. “Always so damn loud,” she says. “You’re always making so much  _ noise _ . Here, let’s see if…” and she trails off, raises one hand to pet at the coarse, dark hair crawling up his belly, across the swell of his breasts, along the sharp plane of his jawline. She cups his cheek briefly and then presses the tips of two fingers against his lips. Thoughtlessly, reflexively, Fero opens his mouth and sucks them in, moans around them, and it’s second nature the pay them the same kind of attention he paid Hella’s cunt only minutes ago. Eyes burning, she makes a little noise of approval, of interest, and his eyes flutter shut. His head tilts back to give her better access and then Hella is gently fucking his mouth, a slow and maddening counterpoint to the slick slide between his legs. 

Between the stretch of his lips around her fingers and the newfound freedom he has to squirm against Hella’s thigh, pinned with only one hand now, it’s not long until Fero’s movements become frantic, erratic, even more desperate, until he’s moaning with abandon despite his full mouth.  _ I’m gonna die _ , he thinks,  _ I’m just gonna die _ . There’s only so long that he can bear this, but god _ damn  _ if it isn’t a better way to go than he ever dreamed of. Hella releases his other hip, shifts her hand to thumb at his cock, and then his vision goes white and he  _ thrashes  _ against her, grinding hard into her hand as his orgasm tears through him, every nerve alight, every inch of skin on fire, and—

—And Fero wakes up, gasping, one hand still shoved down his pants, pinned between his hips and the mattress, body shuddering through the last waves of release. It’s dark in the cave, quiet but for his ragged breathing, and despite how he’d thrown off his blankets in the night Fero is flushed and overheating, a sticky, sweaty mess. His orgasm leaves him boneless, muscles loose and unresponsive, and he rolls over with difficulty, throws an arm over his eye and groans. He’s  _ so fucking  _ relieved to be in his mountain home, not on the trail, grateful beyond words that Lem or, gods forbid,  _ Ephrim  _ isn’t here to hear… whatever noises he was making in his sleep. He’s relieved that Hella is somewhere on the other side of the mountains, that he isn’t going to have to look her in the eyes and pretend to her face like he  _ didn’t  _ have a sordid and extravagant sex dream about her, about one of his closest friends. He’s grateful that, from the look of things, he’s still got a couple of hours left in this half-dawn haze of the weird fake sun before he has to be back at the Archives. 

Fero burrows back into his nest of blankets and, grumbling, does his best to go back to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative Titles are 'How Do You Travel With Hella Without Wanting to Climb That Like a Tree', or; 'Fero Accidentally Has a Sex Dream', or; 'What’s the Point of Halflings If You Never Talk About Size Kinks'


End file.
